


Qui aime bien, châtie bien.

by jellyfic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5 things plus 1 thing, Angst, Arguing, But I Love Them, Fights, Happy Ending, M/M, Mention of alcohol, just gays doing gay things but thinking it’s a bro thing, soft, they’re hopeless, they’re stupid and pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27192976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfic/pseuds/jellyfic
Summary: “I made a surprise party for your birthday.”“I missed classes to assist your match.”“I cooked for you yesterday.”“I cook for you almost every night.” He scoffs.“Yeah, but it doesn’t count because you’re good at cooking.”Kuroo sorts, looking at Bokuto. His friend, as usual, is smiling at him, nose pink because of the cold.“It counts. You just love me less. Accept it.”_____Five times Bokuto and Kuroo argue, and the one time they fight (and confess).
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 12
Kudos: 138





	Qui aime bien, châtie bien.

**Author's Note:**

> You know the trope when two best friends are arguing over something, and it gets pretty heated until one of them bursts out and confesses their undying love for the other who just freezes and go “oh”? Well this is it. 
> 
> Started writing this after seeing [this ](https://twitter.com/applekenma/status/1318586863179923456?s=21) tweet.
> 
> A warm thank you to [Esther ](https://twitter.com/ffskuroo?s=21) for beta reading this for me and hyping it up! Check out her works!

Kuroo is not perfect. He likes to think he is pretty good with people, that he is rarely mad and has control over his temper. But he is not perfect. So sometimes, he would have small fights with his friends. 

He always tries to avoid them, usually making sure to take both his and the other’s point of view before saying anything that could be harmful. But sometimes, he is just tired, he is just frustrated, he is just human. It could be silly fights as much as serious ones, but in the end, he would feel atrociously guilty. So even if it doesn’t happen a lot, he has already got into small fights, with his teammates, with his family, and surprisingly enough, even with Bokuto. 

Bokuto has always been easy going. Since they met in highschool, Kuroo has never found someone as outgoing and simple as Bokuto, and he loves spending time with the two-toned hair boy. It’s refreshing, it’s fun, it’s lighthearted and above all, he can be as dumb as he wants. Bokuto is a lot of fun, so the fact that they get into fights is pretty weird to admit. Most of the time, his fights with Bokuto are stupid, and sometimes, he even asks himself what happens to his braincells when he spends time with him. 

  
  


1.

It’s getting really late when Bokuto pours out sake into his glass for the fifth time. Kuroo laughs, taking the glass away and pushing his best friend a bit. “Stop! Stop! Come on Bokuto we still want to be able to walk home tonight.” 

Bokuto just laughs at him and proceeds to fill Atsumu’s glass instead. “It’s a party Bro!” He says happily, mood already altered by alcohol. Actually, pretty much everyone seems to have lost their sobriety, and Kuroo is not an exception. 

They all have been making jokes and laughing around the table, enjoying a free night where most of their friends finally got the chance to meet up. 

“Okay, okay, I have a good one!” Atsumu says, gathering everyone’s attention. 

“What kind of animal is the Pink Panther?” He barely finishes his question that he’s already laughing, plunging his head between his arms. Most of the table only gave him pointed looks as Oikawa says: 

“No one is gonna fall for that one, Sumu-chan.” 

Akaashi groans and Kenma hides his face between his hands, sighing deeply. Akaashi puts his hand on Kenma’s shoulder in support. Kuroo is about to say something, but Bokuto cuts him off. 

“Of course no one is gonna fall for it Tsum-Tsum. We don’t have enough information to know it.” 

Kuroo turns to his best friend, mouth agape. “Bo I can’t believe you’re that dumb.” 

“There we go.” Kenma grumbles, but Kuroo ignores him. 

“Bro, I can’t believe  _ you _ are that dumb” Bokuto retorts, turning to face him, brows furrowed. 

“What do you mean we don’t have enough information? Have you seen the show? It’s obviously a cat!” Kuroo says, rolling his eyes. 

Bokuto seems really offended by his words and slowly raises his voice when he bites back. “I can’t believe you’re assuming this Kuroo. That’s rude.” 

Confused, and slightly upset, Kuroo doesn’t give up. “It’s obviously a cat! Like how can you be so blind?” 

“The show is called ‘Pink Panther’. Not pink cat?” 

“And so what? If it was a jellyfish the show would have been called pink jellyfish?” 

“Guys?” Atsumu interrupts, looking at them with despair. “It’s a panther! It’s called ‘Pink Panther’!” 

  
  
  
  


More often than not, they argue over nothing. It feels like a routine, something they do so much it became a part of them. It’s light and fun, and it’s just for the sake of making their friendship a little more enjoyable and interesting. 

2.

“Okay, but you were the little spoon yesterday.” Kuroo points out, placing the bowl of popcorn on their coffee table. 

Bokuto groans, dropping the blankets on the couch. “Come on! Today is a horror movie. You know I hate them.” 

“Not my problem,” Kuroo grins, throwing popcorn in his mouth. “I was the big spoon yesterday. So you’re the big spoon today.” 

Like every weekend, they both agreed to watch movies until they would fall asleep. And like every time they watch a movie, they are arguing over who gets to be the little spoon for the night. 

They are too big and tall to fit on the couch properly. They noticed it the day they moved in, but decided to stick with it, keeping their money for importanter things; like food. At least, that’s what they both say. So they agreed to share it that way since it was comfortable and cheaper. 

“Let’s do a staring contest,” Bokuto says, jumping over the coffee table to stand in front of Kuroo. Kuroo snorts. He takes a step back to put a bit more space between them and nods. 

The thing is, with his big round owl eyes, Bokuto has always won staring contests. They both know who will be the winner of the game and Kuroo can’t let that happen. Because tonight, he really wants to be the little spoon. 

So the moment Kuroo feels his eyes hurting, he grins and blows into his friends’ eyes. Bokuto screams, backing away and closing his eyes shut, hiding them behind his hands. 

“That’s not fear! That’s cheating!” He complains, but Kuroo doesn’t care. 

He takes Bokuto’s arms, who’s still bent down, face hiding behind his hands, and pushes him on the couch. 

“Big spoon position. Now!” 

Bokuto finally looks up and pouts, glaring at him through teary eyes. But he eventually sighs, opening his arms and legs. Content, Kuroo lets himself flop on the couch, snuggling between his best friends’ arms and wrapping them both in blankets. 

And if Kuroo’s heart misses a beat each time Bokuto hides his head between his neck because he is scared, then nobody needs to know. 

  
  
  
  


Sometimes, they can argue over real things. There is still no heat, no anger, as they just think that the other is wrong and want to prove it. Except that they are both stubborn and end up dragging friends in their mess. 




“Absolutely not,” Kuroo says firmly, snatching the ice cream pot away from Bokuto’s hold, who screams in indignation. “This is not a breakfast,” Kuroo explains, putting it back in the freezer. 

Bokuto frowns. “I’m eating it in the morning. So, it’s breakfast.” 

Kuroo squints at his friend, putting his hands on his hips. “Your logic is bullshit.” 

“My logic is valid, thank you very much.” 

Kuroo shakes his head, taking a bowl and his box of cereal and putting in on the table. He then takes a fruit and pushes it in front of his friend. His expression is very satisfied when he says, “There. This is a good breakfast.” 

Bokuto scrunches up his nose and pushes his chair away from the table to prove his point further. “This is everything that you want  _ but _ a good breakfast.” 

Kuroo humours him. “Well, it’s morning. So if you eat it, it’ll be breakfast.” 

Bokuto clicks his tongue. He quickly takes his phone from his pocket and types firmly, brows knitted together. He then brings the device to his ear and looks at Kuroo defiantly. 

“Who are you calling?” 

“Kenma.”

“Why?”

“To prove a point.” 

Kuroo crosses the kitchen and smashes the phone away, glaring at Bokuto. “You can’t call our friends each time we’re arguing.” 

Bokuto is about to retort something when Kenma’s voice echoes. “What do you want?” 

Kuroo brings his phone to his ear, sighing. “Nothing, Kenma it’s just-” He doesn’t even have time to finish his sentence that Kenma hangs up. He looks at the phone, eyes wide as Bokuto laughs. He feels slightly hurt at the gesture, and his heart squeezes a little.

Bokuto takes his phone back and calls Kenma again. The blonde answers after a few seconds, and  _ that _ stings. “What do you want?” 

Bokuto smiles, looking at Kuroo. “Kenma? Is ice cream a breakfast?” 

“Yes.”

Bokuto nods, closing his eyes. “Thank you Kenma.” And the blonde hangs up again. 

Outraged, Kuroo looks at him, mouth agape. His voice turns out a bit more hurt than intended but Bokuto doesn’t point it out. “I can’t believe he answered to you but not me.”

Bokuto laughs, standing up from his chair to take back the ice cream that Kuroo put away a few minutes ago. Unable to admit defeat, Kuroo takes his phone and dials Akaashi’s number. He waits a few seconds, taping his feet loudly but hangs up when the man doesn’t pick up. 

But he has to prove his point, and even if he has a bittersweet feeling in his throat, he takes Bokuto’s phone and dials Akaashi’s number again. Akaashi picks up in less than three seconds, and Kuroo doesn’t know if he wants to punch Kenma or Akaashi more. 

“Yes, Bokuto-san?” 

“It’s me,” Kuroo says, squinting at Bokuto laughing at him, eating his ice cream with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Akaashi sighs deeply. “Yes, Kuroo-san?” 

“Tell Bokuto that he can’t eat ice cream for breakfast.” 

“I’m busy, Kuroo-san.” And without any more warning, Akaashi hangs up. 

Bokuto is wheezing at this point, and he gives a few taps on Kuroo’s back. Kuroo can’t chase away the knot in his stomach, but he tries to brush it off anyway and sighs. Bokuto walks to the living room with his pot of ice cream in hand and says over his shoulder: 

“It’s okay Bro! I love you.” 

Kuroo forgets how to breathe. 

  
  
  


They rarely actually argue. It’s always for a good laugh, or to tease the other. It’s light and fun, and they never have to say that they actually don’t mean any harm. They just know, it’s how they work, it’s their friendship. It’s just out of love. 




“Yeah, but I bought you pie,” Kuroo speaks, plunging his hands in his pockets, hiding his nose behind his scarf. 

“You didn’t buy it for me,” Bokuto points out, walking by his side. “Kenma tricked you into buying some. And you kept a slice for me.” 

It’s slowly starting to get cold outside, but Bokuto doesn’t seem to be affected. He is fidgeting around, talking with gestures of his hands and moving around easily, even with just a jacket over his shoulder. Kuroo kind of hates how unperturbed his friend is while he has to put on a scarf and bury his hands into his pockets. 

“Still, my point stands. I brought you pie.” Kuroo insists. 

“Maybe, but I cooked for you. So I love you more.” Bokuto counters, and Kuroo rolls his eyes. It’s not the first time they are having this conversation, and even if he acts uninterested and annoyed, it’s a debate that warms his heart a bit.

“I cook for you almost every night.” He scoffs. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t count because you’re good at cooking.” 

Kuroo sorts, looking at Bokuto. His friend, as usual, is smiling at him, nose pink because of the cold. They’re used to banter like this on their way back home from college, still it feels nice. But Kuroo won’t admit defeat.

“It counts. You just love me less. Accept it.” 

“I made a surprise party for your birthday.”

“I missed classes to assist your match.”

“I almost got killed by Kenma for you.” 

“I was the one saving you from him.” 

“Yeah, but I could die for you.”

“Pft. I could kill for you.” 

“I don’t want you to, though.”

“Then admit that I love you more.”

“No.” 

They continue like that until they arrive home, opting then to argue about what to eat instead. Kuroo’s chest is heavy for the rest of the night. Because as miserable as it makes him feel, as lighthearted as their banter is, he is certain that he is the one who loves Bokuto more. 

  
  
  
  


As light and fun as their fights usually are, they still really argue from time to time. With heat, with anger, with deception. Fortunately, they always end up guilty enough at the end to apologize and make their friendship work. 




“Fucking hell! Bokuto!” 

Without any warning, Kuroo throws a shirt away, sending it flying in the living room. It startles Bokuto sitting on the couch, and he jumps at Kuroo’s scream, turning to him with wide eyes. The moment Kuroo starts shouting again, Bokuto looks down, picking on his fingers.

“Just one time!” Kuroo yells, raising his arms. His chest is heavy and his face is red. “I asked you something once! And you couldn’t even do that?” 

Bokuto frowns and mumbles. “I’m sorry.” But Kuroo doesn’t want to hear it. 

“Sorry isn’t going to help us in this situation, Bo! I know that we’re both tired when we come home but I just asked you to put them in the washing machine. I didn’t even ask to hang them up!” 

“I said I was sorry already!” Bokuto screams, finally looking up. “I forgot! You know that I forgot things, it’s not like I didn’t want to!” 

“This is the problem! You’ve been here all day! You had one task! And what did you do?” Kuroo asks, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at his friend still sitting on the couch. 

Bokuto seems to grow frustrated, and he squints at him. His eyes are shining. “It’s not like I did nothing I tried to cook for us and-”

“But I didn’t ask you to cook!” Kuroo interrupts. He’s tired, he’s angry, and he’s starving. “We could have bought take outs. What pisses me off though is that we don’t have clean clothes for tomorrow. How am I supposed to go to work?” 

“Now, you’re just being mean and putting on your frustration on me Kuroo. That’s not very cool of you.” Bokuto blurts out, tears gathering in his eyes as he glares at Kuroo too. 

This seems to do the charm as Kuroo sighs, passing a trembling hand over his face. He joins Bokuto on the couch, and pulls him against his chest, hugging him tightly. 

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t scream at you because I had a bad day.” 

Bokuto sniffs, scrubbing his eyes against his shirt. “I’m sorry too.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to be.” Kuroo’s throat itches and his heart sinks. Guilts is heavy on his chest, and he sighs. “What did you cook?” 

“Rice and chicken.” Bokuto’s muffled voice reaches his ear, and Kuroo shivers. 

“Okay, let’s eat then.” 

“We can’t.” 

“Why?”

“I burned the chicken.” 

Kuroo can’t help the laugh escaping him, and he feels Bokuto’s smile against his skin. 

“I guess we’re going to eat take out now.” 

  
  
  


Somehow, Kuroo doesn’t mind these kinds of fights. Even if they are a bit harsh, none of them mean any harm. And they usually get out of them stronger, closer. It is just how Bokuto and he work, they are blunt, clumsy, but they care deeply about one another. 

He would have never thought about having an actual fight with Bokuto though. The type that hurts, that stings, and that leaves your heart ripped in pieces, vulnerable. 

+1

“Are you mad at me?” Bokuto asks, sitting on the couch at his side. 

Kuroo is typing an essay on his computer, but his mind is elsewhere. He feels annoyed, frustrated, and he knows he shouldn’t say anything, or he might break. So he answers quickly, “No.” 

Except that it might not be the perfect answer to ease Bokuto’s thoughts. 

“Okay. Why are you mad at me?” Bokuto insists, pausing the TV and turning to face him. 

Kuroo sighs deeply, closing his eyes. His stomach knots and he has a hard time keeping any venom away from his voice. He gulps. “I’m not mad at you Bo.”

“You clearly are though. You’ve been distant for a week, and your answers are cold. You don’t even look at me any more.” 

Kuroo tries to prove him wrong and looks up from his computer. He is met with golden eyes, and he wants nothing but to lose himself in their depth. He could stare at them for hours, wondering how comes that gold has become his favorite color. He feels his heart squeeze and looks back at his laptop. He can almost hear Bokuto’s heart shatter. 

“See? What happened, Kuroo?” 

Kuroo hides his head behind his hands, taking a few breaths. He closes his laptop and leans his head on the couch, looking at the ceiling. 

“What are you going to do after college?” He asks, and he closes his eyes soon after, knowing how Bokuto would react. 

Bokuto groans, tilting his head backwards. “What’s with you and that question again?” 

“Because it’s important!” Kuroo answers, a bit firmer than intended. “I have to plan my studies, and-”

“I already told you that I don’t know and my answer didn’t change.” Bokuto cuts him off, frowning. 

“It’s in three months, Bo. You can’t just keep on not knowing! You have to have an idea, anything!” He’s not shouting yet, but he knows he’s getting there. 

“What do you want me to say?” Bokuto asks rhetorically, frowning as he shrugs. “I’ll know when I’ll be there! Why should I always plan things beforehand? I don’t like that. I want to live while I can the way I want, and there’s nothing wrong with that!” 

“You can’t just- You’re- It’s not how it works!” Kuroo blurs out, and his throat itches and his veins boil at how frustrated he is. 

“Then how does it work?” Bokuto screams in defeat. 

Kuroo doesn’t want to do that. He’s not in the mood to scream, he doesn’t want to shout at Bokuto especially knowing that it is going to hurt them both. He doesn’t want to deal with the feelings hurting him deep down in his heart. So he stands up, bringing his laptop with him, aiming to go to his bedroom. But Bokuto catches his wrist. 

“Why are you running away? See? This is what I’m talking about! We’re best friends, what is bothering you so much that you can’t tell me?” 

Kuroo snatches Bokuto’s hand away, and he can’t help himself anymore. The sound that escapes his mouth is harsh, loud. 

“Because I need to plan my life! I can’t just live day by day hoping everything will go well like you! I have goals that I’d like to achieve. College is ending in three months and I don’t know what I want to do with my life anymore and you’re not helping!” 

Bokuto stands up, getting at the same level as him and he screams. “Then go for it! Plan your perfect life! Why do you need me? I’ll never go against your choice Kuroo and you should know that! So why are you mad at me for not knowing what to do with  _ my _ life?” 

Kuroo hates it. He hates fighting with Bokuto, it hurts. He wants everything to stop, he wants Bokuto to shut up and hug him. He wants to go back in time and prevent this fight. 

“Why are you making  _ me _ feel bad about not knowing?” Bokuto continues, approaching him. 

He wants his brain to stop thinking. He wants Bokuto to stop screaming.

“You have no right to be mad at me over this Kuroo. I never told you how to live your life.” Bokuto shouts, standing only a few centimetres away from him, but still closing the gap. The last cry is broken, screamed with all the pain Bokuto could manage. “So why would you want to tell me how to live mine?” 

He wants his heart to stop hurting. He wants to be able to say it, to free his chest from the weight he has been carrying for years. He wants his heart to let the feeling go.

So he lets go. Kuroo shouts back, voice cracking, tears falling from his eyes: 

“Because I love you!” 

Bokuto freezes. 

Kuroo can’t hear anything else but his beating heart, fast, loud in his chest. So he cries again, raising his hands in surrender. 

“Because I want to spend my life with you! Because I don’t want to lose you! Because I don’t want us to go separate ways! Because the simple fact that we’re fighting is giving me a headache. All because of you, Kotaro.” Kuroo sniffs. He adds, quieter, almost as light as a whisper, “Because I fucking fell in love with you.” 

Kuroo waits, cheeks flushed and wet, eyes locked on the ground. He waits for a reaction, for anything. He is at the edge of the chiasm, heart bursting, chest aching. He waits and he waits, but Bokuto doesn’t move. His heart breaks. 

“Forget it.” He says, walking back to his room. 

Bokuto finally steps out of it and stops him again, gripping his arms. But it doesn’t help Kuroo. He wants to run away, he wants to bury himself two feet under, he just wants to disappear for a while, away from Bokuto. So he cries out, desperate. 

“Bokuto let me go, please. Don’t make this harder, you-”

Kuroo doesn’t have time to finish his sentence. Bokuto shuts him off, sealing their lips together. The contact is violent at first, then tender. Kuroo is shocked, stunned into place, as he blinks stupidly, unable to move. 

Bokuto interprets it wrongly and breaks the contact, taking a step back and scratching the back of his neck. His skin is red from his cheeks to the top of his ears, and he stumbles on his words. 

“Ah, sorry. I should have asked your permission first. I thought- I thought you would-”

This time, Kuroo is the one to interrupt, as he takes Bokuto from the collar of his shirt and pulls him in for another kiss. Bokuto is surprised at first, but he gives in quickly, smiling into the kiss. Kuroo can’t help his own smile as he feels his heart lighten. They end up laughing against each other’s lips, and they part begrudgingly, looking into the other’s eyes, smiling fondly. 

Bokuto breaks the silence. “How are we going to know who loves the other more now?” 


End file.
